


The Completely True Exploits of Captain Isabela

by Mr_Customs_Man



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Pegging, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-05-01 00:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5185115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Customs_Man/pseuds/Mr_Customs_Man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the completely true story of how Captain Isabela rescued her lover, as told by Isabela herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Completely True Exploits of Captain Isabela

Captain Isabela silently scaled the tall walls of the Kirkwall Chantry, her breasts heaving with exertion and nearly bursting from the strict confines of her corset. She almost slipped, but managed to catch herself just in time. The Captain pressed herself against the wall, her fingers digging into the stone as she caught her breath. It was a long way down. She sneaked a peek at the Templars prowling the courtyard below, no doubt in search of her. They looked like ants. The Captain steeled herself and pressed on. She would not be deterred. No one - not even the Grand Cleric herself - could keep her away from her lover.

Finally, she reached the top and peered into the small, barred window into her lover’s cell. Vade in Pace, the clerics called it. Go into Peace. It was an old tradition, a punishment fit for more barbaric times. Any brother or sister found to be unfaithful in their vows to the Maker was to be immured alive inside the very walls of the Chantry itself. The Maker was a jealous husband, and Andraste a vengeful wife.

The penitent Brother kneeled before the statue of Andraste, his eyes closed as he prayed fervently for his heroic Captain to rescue him. Despite the yearning desire that burned in his heart, Brother Sebastian had remained chaste. He would not break his vows, not even for Captain Isabela. She had often come to him in the Chantry courtyard, bringing gifts and whispering sweet-nothings in his ear. She would kiss him on his brow and palm and cheek- everywhere except for his lips, for that alone belonged to the Maker. They had been discreet, but they were discovered by the evil Templar, Ser Karras. He had long desired the Brother himself and watching the Captain embrace what should have rightly been his sent him into a jealous rage. Isabela had barely escaped with her life, but Sebastian had not been so lucky. Justice had been swift and the Brother found himself locked inside his room where on the morrow he would be sealed up, brick by brick.

“I beg you, Maker, please help me,” the Brother whispered, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought of being buried alive.

“Not the Maker, but close enough,” Isabela called out as she slipped through the window, tucking the pin she had used to break the lock back into her hair and tossing her pack onto the bed.

She raked her eyes over the Brother, drinking in the way he looked up at her in awe from on his knees. He looked wickedly disheveled: his hair mussed, his robes torn. Isabela could see flashes of bare flesh peeking through the tears, skin she yearned to touch. But it was the way his lips - so full and soft - opened wide in a perfect ‘O' as he gasped out her name that made her burn for him.

Sebastian rose to his feet and hurried over to her. “How did you get in? There are Templars everywhere!” he exclaimed. “You’ll be killed if they find you here! Please, just go. I couldn’t bear it if you died because of me.”

“I have no intention of letting either of us die. Do not worry, I’ve got a plan.” And with that, the Captain pulled a beautiful gown made of blue silk and lace from her pack.

The Brother frowned in confusion. “I was hoping you’d bring weapons.”

Isabela laughed. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of those too! But with these dresses we won’t even need them. It’s the perfect disguise.”

“That would be a good plan if I looked anything like a woman which, unfortunately, I don’t.”

Isabela reached out and grasped the Brother by his hips, swinging him around and pulling him flush against her pelvis. She ground against his arse, taking delight in all the small, breathy gasps that fell from his lips. “Has no one ever told you how beautiful you are?” She purred next to his ear. “The way your eyes shine and the sway of your hips. I think what I love most about you, however, is your lips. They look like a woman’s, so full and plump. They would look so perfect wrapped around my cock.”

She pulled on his belt and let the red robes of the Chantry slip from his body and pool at his feet. Her eyes lingered across his bare form as he squirmed and blushed. “Don’t be shy,” she whispered softly. “You’re so beautiful. Here, let me help you get dressed.”

She helped him into his corset, his hands holding on to the bedpost for dear life as she pulled on the laces. He gasped as it squeezed tightly around his middle; he was nearly doubled over as he tried to squirm away, his pert bottom raised high in front of her. She couldn’t help but run her hand along it, dipping down to massage the hole hidden there. This time when Sebastian gasped it was for an entirely different reason.

When she finished lacing him up, Isabela helped him stand and turned him gently to face her. The white, lace corset gave him the illusion of an hourglass figure and the padded top half would easily disguise his flat chest. But it was his face that caught her attention. His lips were swollen from biting and his eyes shined with unshed tears and lust. “I had been a sinful, wanton creature before finding the Maker,” he confessed, his breath ghosting along her lips. “I wanted to become pure once more in His eyes and so I refused all advances. But now… now it does not matter. I am no longer a Brother. Please, Isabela.”

She ran her hands along his sides, feeling harsh lace and soft silk graze against her palms. “What is that you want, my darling girl?” She asked. “Do you want me to lay you down on this bed, spread your legs and fill your tight pussy with my cock in a way your precious Maker never could?”

“Yes, please,” he breathed.

Isabela guided him backwards, one hand wrapped around his waist and the other tangled in his auburn hair, until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Sebastian pulled himself up, never taking his eyes off of her face as he laid back against the bed, his legs spread wide. His cock was hard and pressed against the lace of his corset. She ran her fingers along the length, the noises he made sounded like music to her ears. The soft mewling, the lustful gasps- *this* was her Chant of Light. She reached into her pack with her other hand, withdrawing a vial of oil and a dildo made of lacquered wood.

She oiled her fingers and slipped one inside him, his body giving easily into the intrusion. “Your cunt is so hungry for it,” she said. “It knows what its missed. How many men have defiled you? How many stuffed your pussy with their thick cocks, filling you up with their seed?”

“I don’t know!” He called out as a second finger entered him and began to scissor. “Too many! Maker forgive me!”

“'Too many’?” Isabela clucked her tongue. “No, I don’t think there can ever be enough for you, darling girl. This is your true vocation. The Maker created you as you are. He made your body to be filled, do not squander His gift.”

She pulled out her fingers and climbed over him to straddle his chest, resting the dildo against his lips. “Get it nice and wet for me, darling,” she said as he gently took it between his lips and sucked. He was hesitant at first, but slowly he remembered how to breathe, how to take more and more of it into his mouth without choking. And then he was bobbing, up and down along the shaft, his lips stretched wide around the dark wood, working it like he had never stopped. Those halcyon days had returned to him and he wondered why he had ever abandoned that life.

“You are such a good girl, you did so well,” Isabela praised as she took the dildo from his mouth. She reached up and grabbed two pillows as she slithered down his body, pressing her chest against him and grinding as she fitted herself between his splayed legs. She quickly shucked off her panties and positioned the pillows- one underneath his hips and one between her thighs. She let the dildo rest against his hole, rubbing it against him but not yet penetrating. “Are you ready for my cock?” She whispered against his lips. At his fervent nod, she smiled and breached him, pushing the toy in deeper and deeper until it rested fully inside him. Then she pulled it out and slammed it back inside.

Sebastian howled his pleasure to the Maker.

“Maker, look at you, you take it so beautifully,” Isabela groaned as she rocked hard against the pillow, her cunt wet and hot with desire. She set a punishing pace, punching into him with the toy until all that was left was a babbling mess sprawled across the bed. “Your pussy is stretched so wide around my cock. Does it feel good, having me inside you? Fucking you? You like that. You’re so greedy. I could take you back to my ship and give you to my men, let them take turns. They get so lonely out at sea with no women to keep them company. You’re such a pretty girl, they would love you. Tie you to the ship’s wheel, one cock in your cunt, the other in your mouth. You won’t need any clothes, they’ll just get in the way. You’ll be naked all the time: your tits bare and covered in cum, that gaping maw between your legs wet and hot and ready for one of my men to just bend you over and fuck you whenever the mood strikes him. They’ll give it to you hard and fast until you can’t take it anymore, until you’re praying for the Maker to let you cum. Cum. Fuck, cum.”

Isabela reached out with her hand and wrapped it around his cock as she continued to piston him with the other. Sebastian was struggling to breathe; the corset was cinched tight, it made it hard to suck in air. Black spots were edging his vision, but all he knew was pleasure. “Yes, that’s it, do you like my hand on your clit?” Isabela growled as she ground harder and faster against the pillow, leaning over to press her lips against his. “Fuck.”

Sebastian came suddenly, staining the lace with his spend. Isabela wrenched her hand away and rubbed furiously against her clit until she cried out and shook against the pillow. Finally, she looked down at Sebastian between the curtain of her black hair and smiled. “Such a good girl.”

The door to the room suddenly slammed open and Ser Karras stood there with a look of murderous rage. Isabela deftly rolled off the bed, her hands already wrapped around her dagger as the Brother reached for something to cover himself with. “I had thought to come here and let Brother Sebastian plead his case in private.” It was obvious from the leer in his voice as to what the Templar truly meant. “But I see that someone else has already tasted the fruit.”

“You will not leave this room alive,” the Captain promised.

With a roar, Ser Karras withdrew his greatsword and charged the pirate. Isabela nimbly dodged the strike and thrust her dagger beneath his tasset and into his groin, slicing off what little cock he had to boast of. He fell to his knees, the blood already pooling around him, and he shuddered and drew his last breath.

“Help me get him on the bed,” Isabela commanded. “I have an idea.”

The fire that struck the Kirkwall Chantry that late summer night claimed only one life: the Brother Sebastian. They found his charred remains sprawled across the bed. It was determined that he had committed suicide before he could be punished for his transgressions. Strangely enough, that night was also the last time anyone had seen Ser Karras.

And if anyone happened to spot two noble ladies sneaking out of the Chantry earlier that evening, no one mentioned it.

* * *

“I can’t believe you wrote this!” Sebastian protested. “Do you know this book somehow caught the attention of the Grand Cleric? I had to listen to a lecture about the sins of lust! It was the most awkward forty minutes of my life.”

“Oh, come now,” Isabela coaxed as she took a sip of her ale. “All authors embellish a little. Everyone knows that.”

“Embellish? It’s an outright fabrication!”

“Now that’s not true. Don’t you remember that special moment we shared together? It was late at night, we were alone in your room. We had to keep quiet, we couldn’t let the sisters find out I was with you, and I slowly undressed you, letting your armor fall to the ground,” she purred, her eyes falling half-closed in lust.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “One of the buckles on my breastplate broke during a fight. I needed your help getting it off.”

“I’d like to get you off.”

“Ha!” Varric barked out a laugh. “You walked right into that one, Choir Boy.”

“I need to go back to the Chantry,” Sebastian mumbled as he turned and walked out of the Hanged Man. “And pray.”

“Set fire to the Chantry,” Anders mused quietly to himself, unaware of the curious glances from his companions. “Now there’s an inspired idea.”


End file.
